


Because I'm Hopeful

by HAM56



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Headcanon, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:23:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HAM56/pseuds/HAM56
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the headcanon that Castiel spent time healing Dean in Heaven after saving him from Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because I'm Hopeful

**Author's Note:**

> _I had this sitting around for like a week because I couldn't decide if it was good or not. But in the end I got too lazy to look over it and edit it so I'm just going to publish it and leave it here._
> 
> _Hope you like! ^.^_

Castiel’s garrison got ordered to a special mission.

A mission from God, the higher ups said.

Since it was a Thursday, it was left up to Castiel and his angels to fly down from Heaven.

Something the angels haven’t done for more than 2,000 years.

But more than just arriving on Earth, they needed to go straight to Hell.

The mission was to secure a certain soul; a “special” soul.

His name was Dean Winchester.

Rumor was that his soul was a seal, and Lilith was going to use it to start the apocalypse. The first seal out of 66.

Castiel ignored all rumors, and continued to focus on his duty of saving him. He needed to do his mission. He was a warrior.

It took days to even get close to Dean Winchester – which was a long time down in Hell.

The angels killed many demons, and some of their own blood has been spilt as well.

But they had to carry on with this order.

They finally made it to Dean Winchester.

Castiel, who was at the head of his allies, grabbed Dean by the shoulder in all the fighting and chaos and raised him from perdition.

Away from that horrid place.

 

***

 

It was just so…So beautiful.

That was the only way Castiel could describe it.

The first raw human soul he ever saw in all of millennia - and it made him wonder about all human souls.

It was filled with love, mainly the love for his family, but love nonetheless.

But it was also filled with many things only humans could have.

Compassion, sadness, anger, betrayal, and so many more complex emotions Castiel couldn’t even begin to understand.

But all of them, even the bad ones, seemed beautiful to him.

Now it was up to Castiel to mend Dean – his soul and his body – to be put back on Earth.

Of course, he could never mend the trauma he faced in Hell; that was something for Dean to heal for himself.

But he could do the best he could to help him.

Castiel’s first touches were curious; cautious. Dean’s soul was silent, and moving slightly at every touch.

Castiel was wondering about this human soul, since he knew so little about them. He wondered about its complex emotions, and about the way it works.

He also wondered why it was staying silent.

It also felt like the soul was concealing itself – like it wanted to be hidden away from Castiel’s touches.

“Hello, Dean.”

The soul moved away slightly. “Who are you, and what do you want?” it said.

Then Castiel remembered: this soul was in Hell. Technically, for 40 years. Dean probably still thought he was in Hell, and that Castiel was here to torture him.

Being in a non-physical dimension, where everything that existed was pure let out thought and emotions, Castiel let known his sympathy.

It washed over Dean, letting him know he wasn’t there to hurt him in anyway.

Dean sat still, unmoving and clearly untrusting.

“It’s okay, Dean; you’re safe.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in Heaven, Dean.”

Even the soul’s flickers of light stopped waving.

Castiel let show his concern and the truth in his words.

Dean was still uncomfortable, but at least his soul’s waves moved normally now.

“My name is Castiel,” he said it in the softest tone he could. “And I am an angel. I am the one who raised you from perdition.”

It was really hard to lie in this plane, considering that all it was is pure thought. So Castiel knew Dean would know he was telling the truth; that he wasn’t lying. That he really was here to help him.

But Dean still didn’t trust him, as was soon revealed with his reply.

"There’s no such thing as angels.”

Castiel felt disappointment. How was he to help that which doesn’t want help? He couldn’t further his mission at this rate. The Apocalypse was at hand, after all.

“And even if there were,” Dean continued. “Why would you want to help me? Why pull me out of the pit?”

“Because God commanded it.”

“What? Me to be rescued? Why me?”

“What’s the matter?”

“’What’s the matter?’? The matter is that I have no idea where I am, I am dead, I don’t know where Sam is, and, oh yeah, suddenly there are angels, and they want to help me!”

Castiel didn’t know what to say. Humans were weird, complex, and foreign to him; what could be bad about being helped by an angel of the Lord?

After a few moments, Dean finally broke the silence. “What do you want to do with me? You were touching me earlier.”

“I was examining you. I’m here to heal you and bring you back to Earth.”

“Wait-“ Dean’s soul exhibited great hopefulness. “So this means that I’m going to go back to life?”

“Yes, Dean.”

Suddenly, the space was filled with happiness. And behind it, love. Dean was excited to be back with his brother again, Castiel deduced.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road. Heal me!”

Castiel was annoyed that Dean had tried to order him, but he obliged anyway.

His touches were gentle and cautious like when he first grabbed hold of him – besides when he pulled him out of Hell.

He began by healing the old wounds left from Dean’s 30 years of torture.

Castiel decided it best not to share that he knows what Dean did down in Hell. Or about why he needed to go back to Earth. Or the fact that he was the first seal.

For one thing, Dean did not need to know; at least not at the moment, since there was little he could do.

But Castiel also began understanding him, and came to the conclusion he was too fragile to know such things. His soul has been through much, and you can learn these kinds of things when you in as much contact with another’s soul as this.

“How long will it take?”

“Your soul needs time. I understand that it won’t be healed for many years even after I’m done with it. There are certain things only you can fix.”

Dean lay silent for a few moments before replying. “And what about my physical body?”

“Not long. I can heal that and have you moving around on Earth soon.”

“Great.” For some reason, a human one Castiel couldn’t figure out, Dean didn’t seem as excited as he was before.

He started probing in deeper, though making sure not to make Dean uncomfortable.

Ignoring his curiosity to look through Dean’s memories, Castiel tried his best to mend the scares that Hell has left on him.

As expected, it took a small while before Castiel could be sure that that was all he could do to help heal him.

Castiel started moving his touch away from Dean, making sure to fill the space with his love.

Dean only seems annoyed by this gesture, which makes Castiel even more confused by him. Is sharing love something humans don’t do? Don’t they expect angels to provide them with it?

Castiel started receding his presence away from the soul, feeling as if his courtesies were not accepted. But, then, something tugged him back slightly.

“Uh, can you uh…Keep doing whatever you were doing…?” Dean was clearly embarrassed at asking, yet another thing Castiel does not understand about human nature.

But he went to touch Dean again anyway, feeding him his love – the very thing angels were made out of. Love and their sole purpose to act for God.

Dean felt more relaxed now, like he was actually accepting Castiel’s warmth. This made him happy, to have pleased him.

He smoothed his warmth and his love over the soul; over the cracks, over the buried memories, and even over the bitter hatred lying deep within.

Castiel choose to ignore who that hatred was aimed towards.

Humans are so complex, he thought yet again. They have all these good things about them, and then all these bad things – these flaws. But they were made to be imperfect, and that’s preciously what makes them so beautiful.

Castiel smiled at himself, relishing in this new discovery. He didn’t stop the thought from leaving his walls into the space, around Dean.

“You…you think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course, Dean. I find all humans beautiful; I am an angel.” God once told all angels to love humans, and so Castiel did. His love for them was also helped by his curiosity.

He felt Dean’s embarrassment yet again.

“I should work on your physical body,” Castiel decided. He pulled away from Dean yet again, and slightly mourned the loss of the feeling of him.

As Castiel suspected, Dean’s physical body was as beautiful as his soul was. So many cuts, bruises, scars – not counting the giant gash which killed him – and then the good things, like his eyes. So green.

Even though time really wasn’t on their side, Castiel decided to heal the slow way – one wound at a time, unlike how he usually does it. He just wanted an excuse to examine this human body. It was the first he has ever touched, and the soul it belongs to was the first human soul he ever touched, too.

Castiel first heals the giant wound, the work of hell hounds, in Dean's chest. Then, he works from the legs up; going over every scrape and scab he can find.

Dean watches silently as Castiel moves slowly, drawing out the process of healing his body. "Thanks," he whispers, very quietly.

"You're welcome," Castiel replies.

"What was your name again? Castiel? Cas?"

"Castiel is my name, but you may call me whatever you like."

"Alright, Cas; so when do I get to go back?"

"I assume it will be soon."

Dean stays silent.

Castiel outstretched himself to embrace Dean's soul again; it just felt _interesting_ and he honestly liked it. The feeling wasn't the same as when he felt another angel. It was new.

Dean didn't object or leave any hints of his dislike. Nor did he when Castiel decided to start singing to give him more comfort. It was a song of the angels; in a frequency only the angels could sing and the dead could hear.

Soon, Castiel stopped singing and Dean said "I liked it. It was...nice."

"I'm glad you liked it, Dean."

"Your warmth is nice, too."

"I can imagine, with what Hell has been like."

Castiel felt Dean shift away slightly. "Yeah, that wasn't exactly what I'd call 'fun'."

"I'm sorry; I made you uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's okay. Don't worry about it."

Castiel continues examining and healing Dean. Every small crease in his skin, every little scar on his leg, every line and hair until he's positive he's had Dean memorized.

Dean just watches in silence. He's not sure how something can be so loving, so caring, especially towards _him_.

Castiel senses this, and says so. "I'm not tricking you, Dean. I'm only here to help." He washes Dean over yet again with his warmth.

The soul seems hesitant at first, but then soon accepts it thoroughly; letting the tenderness creep and crawl through him the way Castiel did on his body.

Soon, Castiel began understanding Dean. He saw into his memories, his pains and loses, his love for his brother, and everything in between. He soothes over them and provides comfort.

"God, this is weird."

"What is?"

"This- this _feeling._ I mean, it's so different from what I'm used to. I'm not used to letting people get close to me physically, let alone _this_. And in Hell all I felt was pain."

Castiel's sympathies filled the space and curled around Dean. He was right; that touching someone on this plane was more intimate than in the physical dimension. And Castiel would probably not touch another angel this way. But Dean was an exception; Castiel had to heal him and give him the needed comfort.

He started letting himself known to Dean in return - sharing his own memories and thoughts until they knew each other like they might as well have grown up together.

Castiel liked Dean. And he liked embracing Dean the way he has been, in a way that he soon wished he didn't have to give up Dean's soul to be placed in the physical body.

And while beautiful, a physical body can never amount to the magnificent and delicate soul that was Dean.

But it was time.

Castiel was slowly putting Dean back in his body, back into the physical realm.

"Hey, Cas, what will I remember? Will I remember...Hell?

"You will remember Hell, Dean," Castiel let wash his sympathies again, and the sorrowfulness of the pain Dean has to endure.

He put Dean back and said "Goodbye, Dean." Castiel left back up to Heaven to watch Dean crawl out of his grave.

Dean looked greatly confused and disoriented. And when he went into the gas station, Castiel decided to let known his presence.

But Dean couldn't hear him. He tried speaking louder, and still Dean could not understand what he was saying. He stopped talking, disappoint taking over his emotions.

Later on, Castiel decided to try again. Dean still couldn't understand him.

So Castiel decided to go and get his vessel - the one he has been preparing for for a few days, anyway.

He took over Jimmy Novak's body, and stated to his daughter "I'm not you father" before walking along into the weary night.

Next thing Castiel knows, someone is trying to get a peak at his true form. A human, a physical human. He tried to warn her away, but she persisted and saw through.

And now, he was being summoned. He sensed it was Dean, so he went.

Castiel was greeted by bullets to his gut, but he ignored them and continued walking. He was an angel, and could therefore heal his vessel instantly.

"Who are you?" Dean's real voice was gruff. Castiel hid away his disappointment.

He knew Dean would remember Hell; he didn't know if he would remember Heaven. If he would remember _him_. The one who, even with the short time they have spent together, learned everything there was to know about this human.

The one who possibly felt a little more than he should toward this human, whose mission was solely to protect and test him for the will of God.

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised from perdition," he replied.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean took the demon killing knife and slammed it into Castiel's chest. Why Dean would want to hurt someone who was here to help him was beyond Castiel.

He pulled the knife out, and put the other man next to Dean asleep.

"We need to talk, Dean," he looked back up at Dean. Begging, pleading, that hopefully this was a mistake. Hopefully Dean could remember the warmth that greeted him, or the song that he sang. "Alone."

Dean just looked up him angrily, clearly not showing any signs of past acquaintance. "Who are you?"

"Castiel," at this point Castiel gave up hoping. He decided to act like he never met Dean. Like he never spent more than he could have going over the cracks in his soul, or the details of his body.

"I mean, what are you."

"I'm an angel of the Lord."

Dean slowly got up. "There's no such thing."

Pain.

"This is your problem, Dean; you have no faith." Castiel made lightning rain down as to show the shadows of his wings; the closest glimpse a human could ever have of them.

"Some angel you are. You burned out that poor women's eyes!"

Castiel sighed, and tried not to think about how Dean should already know this. How he should not have to explain to him the things he buried within. "My true form...Can be, overwhelming to humans. And so can my real voice. But, _you_ already knew that."

"Look, pal, I'm not buying what you're saying so who are you really?"

Castiel only got more confused and hurt by this. Dean should _know_. "I told you"

"Right...And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?"

This time, Castiel knew Dean. He knew why Dean would be asking this, and what he truly thought. "Good things do happen, Dean," like meeting you. But you forgot.

"Not in my experience."

"What's the matter?" Castiel leaned in closer. "You don't think you deserve to be saved?"

Castiel was too busy dealing with the 66 Seals to give his full attention on Dean. But he soon found himself getting more and more acquainted with him and his brother.

Something very confusing to him was "personal space." He and Dean had none in Heaven, and Dean didn't hide behind the walls he does now.

Castiel sometimes thinks he sees remnants - flickers, of when Dean will let himself out of these walls. Sometimes he even believes Dean will recognize him for a second. Just a second, but there will be faint recognition. Faint _longing_ to be with him again.

Or maybe that's just Castiel being hopeful.


End file.
